


Stuck in Second Gear (No One Told You Life was Gonna be This Way)

by msred



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany's married with a beautiful three-year-old daughter. Marley's getting married. Rachel ... Well, Rachel has been dating the same man for six years and ... and nothing - they've been dating for six years and as far as Rachel can tell, that's the end of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck in Second Gear (No One Told You Life was Gonna be This Way)

Rachel’s still sniffling a little, dabbing at her cheeks and nose with a tissue, when she asks Brittany for another one. It takes longer than she thinks it should, and she’s just about to ask what’s wrong when she hears Brittany’s shocked, “Oh my God!”

“What Bri- Oh my God!” Rachel’s exclamation, however, is out of disgust rather than surprise. “Why are you going through the trash?”

Brittany only shrugs. “You needed tissues and the box is empty.” She lifts the box off the back of the toilet and shakes it in Rachel’s direction, as if for confirmation. “But anyway, look!”

In her other hand, Brittany’s holding a little white stick and she practically shoves it in Rachel’s face. Rachel’s not stupid – she knows what that is – so she takes a step back. “That’s … I don’t … You should really put that back,” she finally manages.

“Rachel,” Brittany almost whispers, “Rachel, it’s positive.”

Rachel just kind of sputters for what feels like a full two or three minutes. She’s not even really trying to make actual words, there are just these sounds coming out of her throat and her lips are parted and she doesn’t know what else to do, really. Finally, she buries her hands in her hair and manages to focus enough to stammer out, “Put it back, Brittany, now.” Brittany nods but keeps staring at the test as she lowers it back into the pale yellow waste basket.

“Do you know what this means, Rachel?”

Rachel’s not sure if she’s being literal or philosophical. Even after 12 years, she can’t always be sure about things like that with Brittany. “I know that it’s Marley’s wedding day,” she says in her most even tone, hoping to calm the buzzing blonde before she does something like call the other girl into the room. “And that for that reason we really shouldn’t talk any more about this today. Okay, Brittany?” She doesn’t take her eyes off her friend as she nods slowly, as if coaxing Brittany to do the same.

“Okay.” She agrees, pushing around some tissues to re-cover the pregnancy test before she whispers, “Puckerose baby.” Rachel’s eyes are as big as saucers as she blows out a long breath, letting herself fall a little so that her weight is resting on the bathroom door behind her.

~.~

“Oh, you’re just so beautiful!” Rachel tells Marley, tearing up for the umpteenth time as she adjusts the younger woman’s veil. Marley just smiles at her almost-brother-in-law’s girlfriend through the full-length mirror she’s standing in front of.

“Isn’t it funny,” Brittany starts, and the other two share a smile before turning their attention to her, “how so many of us ended up together? I mean, it’s like New Directions was our own personal little dating website or something.”

“Umm,” Marley starts, smiling sweetly at her best friend as Rachel holds back a giggle. Marley gestures first to herself, then to Rachel, then finally to Brittany, “We’re the only ones who ended up with other people from New Directions, or even from McKinley, for that matter.” (They don’t even go there on the whole website thing.)

“I know!” Brittany says, eyes wide and head bobbing furiously, “all of us!” She says it as if the three of them in that room and their significant others are the only ones from those days who really matter. Rachel thinks maybe she’s right.

She also thinks about how the other two keep saying ‘ended up,’ when she and Noah aren’t actually married, or about to be, as is the case with Marley and Jake, and therefore haven’t technically made anything permanent. She feels a pang, just a tiny one, really, when she thinks that she wishes she could be as confident as the two of them seem to be. She knows Noah loves her, there’s no doubt about that, really, and they’ve had an amazing relationship for nearly six years now. She actually gets angry with herself, sometimes, for being so old-fashioned when she feels a tinge of disappointment, like they somehow _need_ to be married. She then reminds herself that there’s nothing wrong with being a little traditional, but also that it’s silly to question something that’s working so well as it is, and she manages to stop thinking about it. For a while. She has a feeling that’s about to get a lot harder.

“That’s true, Brittany,” she says, because she doesn’t really know what else to say but she feels like they are expecting her to say something. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I know,” the bubbly girl states as she bounces over to stand in front of the bride. “Rach was right, Marley. You’re beautiful. I can’t wait to see Jake see you.” Marley smiles and ducks her head a little bashfully as Brittany wraps one of the girl’s dark curls around her finger then drops both of her hands to smooth them over the bride’s stomach. Marley doesn’t even seem to notice what Brittany’s doing, but Rachel does.

Rachel doesn’t particularly want to draw attention to herself at the moment (yes, there are moments like that, this is one of them), but she knows that if she doesn’t, eventually Marley’s attention is going to be drawn to the hands rubbing continuous circles over her stomach. “Brittany,” she calls from the vanity she’s seated herself in front of, “can you come help me with my hair?”

“Aww, your hair looks great Rach!” She tells her, hands not leaving their place on Marley’s abdomen.

“No, there’s just – there’s this place in the back, it feels like it’s gone flat, and I just, I can’t reach it,” she lifts her hand to the back of her head for effect. “Just come help me please.”

Brittany nods and heads her way, but not before one more pat to Marley’s stomach and a soft, “Pretty, flat little tummy.” Marley cocks her head and looks at Brittany like she has no idea where that just came from, but she doesn’t say anything. The girls have been best friends for years; if she asked questions every time Brittany made an off-the-wall comment, Rachel guesses that would be all they ever talked about. Instead she just shrugs over at Rachel, who smiles and shrugs right back.

~.~

Rachel’s sitting with Marley at the head table, watching the groom and best man engage in some downright silly dance with their little sister. Noah turns their way and throws her a wink, and she absolutely loves that it still makes her blush.

“We did good, huh?” Marley leans over and giggles into her ear, and Rachel can only smile back at the newlywed.

“We did very, _very_ good,” she tells the younger woman. She means it.

Noah’s mother (because she and Jake’s mother have become quite close friends, which Rachel thinks is wonderful and Puck claims is ‘fuckin’ weird’ to everyone who’s not actually a part of their odd little blended family) comes by the table, beaming at the two younger women, and sets a glass of champagne in front of each of them. “Oh, no – no thank you. None for me,” Rachel tells her at the same time Marley is thanking her. Her boyfriend’s mother looks at her a little quizzically for a moment before shrugging and taking a sip out of the glass herself. She tells Marley for the thousandth time that day what a beautiful bride she makes and shoots Rachel a wink that leaves her more than a little confused before walking away.

“Is everything okay?” Marley looks concerned and her hand falls to cover Rachel’s on top of the table, and Rachel actually feels bad. It’s the girl’s wedding day, after all.

“What? Of course, I’m fine.”

“Oh, well, I just – you didn’t want any champagne?” Marley’s lifting her own glass to her lips as she asks.

“Well, I, um-,”

Rachel doesn’t actually get to finish her explanation because Brittany comes flying at them from somewhere all the way across the dancefloor. “No!” she shrieks, ripping the champagne flute from Marley’s hand.

Marley and Rachel both stare up at their friend, stunned. Marley’s still trying to process what just happened, staring at her now empty hand blankly, when Brittany shoves the glass right under Rachel’s nose. “Here Rach, you drink it.”

“No, Britt, I don’t -,” Rachel starts at the same time that Marley asks,

“What in the _world_ are you doing, Brittany?”

The blonde’s fair skin is a little pink when she shrugs and tells the other two, “I just don’t think it’s very nice of you to steal Rachel’s champagne, that’s all.”

Rachel’s starting to feel her own face growing pink too, because she can really only see this ending one way.

“But that _wasn’t_ Rachel’s champagne, Brittany.” Marley turns just enough to shoot Rachel a sideways glance, and Rachel sees confusion there, but something else too, like the wheels in her friend’s head are starting to turn. “Rachel didn’t take any champagne.”

Brittany’s eyes grow wide and she leans down and hisses at Rachel. “Well she should have.”

Marley sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest, looking pointedly from one bridesmaid to another. “Why is that, Brittany?”

Brittany starts to say something, but Rachel shifts in her seat just enough that she can kick her under the table.  Brittany looks really torn for a few seconds, her gaze shifting from the prodding look on Marley’s face to the pleading one on Rachel’s and back again. “Sorry Rach,” she finally says, and she really does look like she feels just awful. “I know we agreed, but I have to.”

“Agreed on what?” Marley asks. “Have to what?” Rachel’s eyes are closed and she’s slouching into her chair, wishing desperately that she could just sink through it and into the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mar,” Brittany trails her fingers down her friend’s cheek, “we weren’t gonna say anything, ‘cause we knew you wouldn’t want people to find out on your wedding day, but,” her voice trails off and she looks around the room before leaning in and letting the words rush out of her. “We know you’re pregnant!”

“What!” It’s louder than Rachel knows Marley meant for it to be, and for a second all three of them freeze, looking around to see if she caught anyone else’s attention. One of Marley’s older aunts seems to be looking their way, but they all just wave at her and she waves back before turning back to the cake in front of her. The bride takes a second to compose herself before addressing her friend again. “Britt, I’m not -,”

“Oh Marley,” Brittany looks down at her friend like she’s about to explain that Santa isn’t real. (Which, Rachel notes, is rather ironic, considering that Brittany herself just came to that harsh realization the previous Christmas when she caught Sam sneaking out of bed to put out the presents for their three-year-old daughter.) “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to lie to us anymore. We found your test in the trash.”

“You found …” Marley turns to stare at Rachel, which makes her squirm and divert her eyes _anywhere_ else.

“Yes.” If Brittany notices any of the tension growing between her two friends, she doesn’t let on. “And we weren’t going to say anything, but,” she huffs and turns to Rachel. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just drink it?”

“I,” Rachel clears her throat because her voice comes out much weaker than she would like, but in her defense, Brittany is standing there with her hands on her hips and practically glaring down at her. “I promised Noah I’d be the designated driver.”

“We’re in a hotel.” Marley says flatly. “You have a room upstairs.” Her eyes narrow a little and Rachel tries to give her best apologetic look. “This test,” she turns back to Brittany without saying anything else to the girl practically trembling in the seat just to her left, “you say you found it in my trash?” Brittany nods. “ _Where_ , exactly? Like, way down at the bottom, or closer to the top maybe?”

Brittany smiles, like she’s thinking ‘ _Thank **goodness** , someone is finally starting to catch up with me.’_ “Yeah! Right at the top, just under all the tissues Rachel used crying because you’re getting married and she’s not.”

“What, Britt, I-I _never_ said that!”

“Aww, it’s okay Rach, you didn’t have to.” She reaches over to pat the top of Rachel’s head but keeps her focus on Marley.

“So then, it must have been put there pretty recently, huh? Like maybe, maybe this morning, or last night? Sometime since you guys have been staying with me for the wedding?”

“Yeah,” Brittany shrugs. “Probably.”

Marley stops even pretending to play along with Brittany and focuses all her attention on Rachel. ‘ _I’m sorry,’_ the older girl mouths as Marley continues to stare at her. Finally, she turns back to Brittany. “Britt,” she starts in a voice that’s calm and even, “I’m not pregnant. I promise you.”

“But,” her brows furrow in confusion and Brittany’s eyes drop to the table. The others can see her working things out in her head, even ticking things off on her fingers. Eventually, her head lifts slowly, a look of complete understanding on her face. “You told me it was hers,” she accuses Rachel.

“No,” Rachel clarifies. “I just didn’t tell you it wasn’t.” Brittany gapes back at her for a minute or so, mouth opening and closing occasionally but nothing coming out. Slowly, a smile takes over her face and she shakes her head a little like she’s knows she’s been bested, but she’s not really upset about it.

“Are you sure?” Marley asks after a few minutes, which Brittany spends staring at Rachel’s stomach and she and Rachel spend staring at Noah on the dancefloor.

“I don’t know,” Rachel says shakily. This is the first she’s acknowledged out loud that she might actually be carrying Noah’s baby inside her. It’s scary. “I mean, I guess. The test was positive, you know?”

Brittany shrugs. “Maybe it’s not.”

The laugh Rachel lets slip is a little sardonic, and she kind of feels bad because it’s not like these two have done anything to her, you know? “You saw it Brittany. It was positive.”

“No, I know that.” The blonde waves a hand casually through the air. “What I mean is maybe it was wrong. Like a-a false positive, right?” Rachel knows she’s looking at her like she’s completely lost her mind. “Remember when me and Sam got pregnant with Nikki? The first test came out negative. But I wasn’t okay with that,” the look on her face tells Rachel that the girl actually believes that’s enough to change the results of a pregnancy test, “so I took another one the next day, and eight months later, voila!”

“Really?” Rachel really hadn’t considered the possibility that the test was wrong. She hadn’t considered anything, really, except how in the world she was supposed to explain to this to Noah. And how much longer she had before she had to start really training her understudy to step up and take her place. And whether she and Noah would keep their current apartment – they _did_ have that extra bedroom – or move into a more ‘kid-friendly’ building. And – okay, so maybe she’d considered a lot of things already. But a false positive wasn’t one of them.

“Rachel,” Marley’s soft voice breaks into her thoughts and she turns to look at her. “You have to take another test.”

Rachel nods a bit dumbly. “Yeah. Yes, I will, first thing in the morning.”

“Rachel?” she hums back at the other girl, “now.”

~.~

Rachel’s pacing the room the girls used to get ready for the wedding, and Marley’s long ago given up on telling her that she’s going to wear a path in the carpet, when Brittany finally bursts through the door.

“Okay,” she says, almost breathlessly, “we’re back.”

 _“ **We?** ” _Rachel shrieks, and Brittany only nods.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I had him drive me. He’s had way less to drink than I have.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone!” Rachel hisses just before she buries her face in her hands. This is not how this was supposed to go. Any of it.

“No, no. It’s okay,” Brittany assures her, one hand holding a small brown paper bag, the other rubbing Rachel’s shoulder comfortingly. “I just had him drive me to the drugstore. I didn’t even let him come in. When he tried I told him it was ‘girl stuff’ and he got back in the car.” Marley giggles before she can stop herself. “It’s not like I lied,” Brittany tells them.

“Just give me the test,” Rachel tells her, exasperated. She slips into the bathroom and she can hear her friends talking as she urinates on a stick for the second time in as many days. Again, _not how this was supposed to go_. When she’s finished, she snaps the little cap onto the test before setting it on the counter and washing her hands, smoothing her dress as she heads back into the main room. Both of the others are staring at her expectantly when she emerges. “It takes three minutes,” she points out, and they nod but keep staring.

“What’s going through your head, Rachel?” Marley asks her as she drops onto the couch beside the bride.

Rachel just shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Marley bumps her shoulder against Rachel’s, “it might help to just, you know, get it out there.”

“Yeah,” Brittany chimes in, dropping her phone onto the top of the vanity and coming to stand in front of the others, “like a pro-con list.”

Rachel snorts, “That’s not really how this works, Britt.”

“No,” she nods, “I know. But still, it might help.”

“Fine.” Rachel exhales slowly through her nose. “I’m thinking that … that it’s early. Early in my career Early in my life. Early for me and Noah.”

“How so?” Marley snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her close just before Brittany settles in on her other side and drops her chin to Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel must look at Marley a little strangely, because she goes on. “I mean, I know this is your first starring role, but you’ve been there for over two years now. I know I’m no Broadway expert like you, but that’s a pretty long time for a person to be in one role, right?” Rachel has to admit that’s true (some shows don’t even last that long, and if they do, the performers often move on before the run is over), so she nods. “And you’re 27. Maybe you weren’t planning to have a baby just yet, but it’s certainly not _too_ young, you know?” Oh, she knows. She’s very aware that 27 isn’t too young to have a baby. Actually, she’s kind of always thought that was the perfect age to have her first child. “And hey,” Marley squeezes her side at the same time that Brittany reaches for her hand, “you and Puck’ve been together _six. Years._ That’s a long time. It’s longer than most people wait.”

Rachel loses it. Really. It’s ridiculous and immature and unbecoming and she absolutely cannot help herself. She practically jumps off the couch and turns to face Brittany and Marley, hands on her hips and what she can only assume is an almost psychotic look on her face. “Yes. It is a long time, isn’t it?” They just stare up at her like they’re a little scared, and she figures they probably have the right to be. “It’s a long time, and as both of you so astutely pointed out earlier, we have _ended up_ together after all this time. Only we haven’t, because nothing’s ‘ended,’ is it? Because we’re not married, and we’re not planning to be married, and I don’t -,” she stops herself from saying what she’s thinking after that, which is that she’s starting to give up hope that they’ll _ever_ be married (and yes, okay, fine, that bothers her, as much as she tries to convince herself that it doesn’t, that it shouldn’t) and says instead, “I don’t want this baby to have a hard life because it was born to unmarried parents.”

“Oh sweetie,” Marley’s almost laughing as she stands to take one of Rachel’s hands, and Brittany starts to say something but Marley just sends her a look that makes her stop. “I _really_ don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

Rachel tries to listen, but her mind is running away and now that Marley is standing there, holding her hand and running her other hand up and down her arm, she just can’t stop. “He’s not ready to marry me, to commit himself to me forever, and I-I can live with that, because I know he’s not going anywhere either, but a baby is _forever_ forever, and what if,” she feels a couple tears slip down her cheeks and Marley envelopes her in a hug, “what if he thinks I did it on _purpose_ , that I’m trying to _trap_ him?”

“Rachel, no,” Marley hugs her a little tighter and runs her hands over her back, “Puck would never –,”

“Puck!” Brittany exclaims, and Marley looks up at the interruption but Rachel doesn’t move until she feels herself being pushed away from the other girl’s embrace.

“What the hell?” The expression on Puck’s face as he slams the door behind him is a dangerous-looking combination of confusion and concern and anger and he practically runs across the room when he sees that Rachel’s crying.

“You-you’re not supposed to be here,” she sniffles into his shirt as he tugs her gently out of Marley’s arms and into his own.

“Yeah, that’s what Evans said, but fuck that.” He tilts Rachel’s chin up with his thumb and scans first her face then her body. “What’s goin’ on? You sick, or hurt or somethin’? You just disappeared.” He turns to Marley for a second, “Super freaked out new husband out there, by the way,” he tells her. “I got Sarah to distract him, but I’m gonna go get him and bring his ass in here myself if somebody don’t tell me what this is, pronto.”

“Rachel’s taking a pregnancy test,” Brittany tells him matter-of-factly.

Puck gapes down at her for a second before pulling her with him to sit on the couch that’s empty now that Brittany has vacated it to go stand next to Marley. “Baby?” he questions, his voice low and, honestly, quite soothing. She knows he’s just referring to her and not actually to _that_ (potential) baby, but it still makes her insides tingle a little.

She looks at him, searching his face for some sign of _anything_ , before she finally nods. Vaguely, she hears the alarm on Brittany’s phone going off, but it sounds like it’s miles away. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I took a test. Yesterday. And it was positive. And I wanted to tell you first, of course, but Brittany found the test in the trash, and,” she’s aware that she’s rambling but she can’t seem to find it in herself to really care, “she thought it was Marley’s until it came out that it was mine because Brittany tried to make me drink champagne. And they told me it could’ve been a false positive so I told Marley I’d take another test and now here I am. And I’m so, so sorry, Noah. I didn’t do this on purpose, I promise. I would never try to trick you like that. And I know you’ll be an amazing father no matter whether it’s nine months or nine years from now, though I’d really rather not be having children when I’m 36, but that’s beside the point. The point is, it’s okay that we’re not married and -,”

“Hey guys?” Brittany cuts her off, finally, and she’s actually thankful. She doesn’t want to think about what would have come out of her mouth if someone hadn’t stopped her. She does notice that Noah hasn’t said anything at all about the whole thing and is just staring at her with wide eyes as she goes on and on, and she can only imagine how freaked out he is right now. She pushes the thought from her mind and looks up at Brittany, standing in the bathroom doorway and holding the pregnancy test. “It’s negative.”

“Oh,” Rachel says, because it’s really all she can say. Honestly, she’s almost as shocked by that as she was by the first one being positive. “Well that’s … that, I guess.” She ventures to look over at Noah, and he’s just kind of sitting there, his back a little rounded as he slouches into the piece of furniture and his hands lying limply on his thighs as his eyes stare at a spot between his feet. “Noah?”

“Huh,” he says, almost more of a grunt than anything. “No, that’s good. I mean, it’s not like we were planning for it or anything, so yeah, that’s good.”

“Right,” Rachel agrees, nodding resolutely. Only, is it? Because, maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst thing, you know? After all, there were all those things Marley pointed out earlier, and, married or not, she never sees herself with anyone other than Noah, and it’s not like she’d never pictured a family with him before. (Or that she doesn’t do it somewhat frequently, actually.) She realizes she’s humming softly when Noah looks over at her with his brows furrowed and asks her ‘what?’ and she just smiles gently and tells him, “A little baby with your eyes would be beautiful.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and he’s smiling a little bit and she knows she hears just a little bit of a catch in his voice. She nods and he smiles a little bigger. “You’ve got the best smile,” he tells her quietly. “I bet it’d have your smile.” She starts to giggle and it comes out as more of a hiccup. They’ve almost forgotten that anyone else is in the room, and they certainly don’t notice the way Brittany is watching them, a knowing grin on her face.

“It’s good though,” Rachel tries to bring her face back to neutral. “We-we’re not ready.” Funny, she sounded much more sure of that in her head a little while ago. “Besides, you’d just spoil a baby rotten, anyway.”

“Hell yeah, I would,” he tells her, grinning. “I’d be an _awesome_ dad.”

“I know,” she promises him in a whisper, and when she sees his smile break a little she finds herself crying again. “Oh God,” she whines, “this is so stupid! How can I be upset over something I never had?” But when she looks over, expecting to see her boyfriend with a teasing smirk plastered on his face as he watches her make a fool of herself, God help her if she’s not absolutely positive that she sees a tear or two in his eyes as well.

“It’s negative,” Noah says quietly.

“No it’s not,” Brittany chimes in.

“What?” the couple asks, their eyes snapping away from one another and onto the blonde bouncing on her toes on the other side of the room.

“It’s not negative, it’s positive!”

Puck and Rachel look at one another for just a second before turning back to their friend. “But,” Rachel starts. “You said it was negative.”

“I know,” she beams. “I lied.” Rachel looks to Marley and the smile on the other girl’s face tells her that, this time, Brittany is telling the truth. “And now, you know how you really feel about it. Both of you!”

“Fuck Britt,” Puck starts, but already Rachel feels his hand sliding across her lower back to rest on her hip and pull her closer until her thigh is pressed to his, “that’s a risky little game, don’tcha think?” Brittany just shrugs and brings the test to Rachel so she can hold it between the two of them.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Rachel murmurs, staring at the test resting between one of her hands and one of Noah’s.

Puck lets out a long, deep breath and then he’s laughing, pulling Rachel onto his lap. “We’re gonna have a baby,” he tells her, still laughing as he cups her face in his hands and pulls her to him for what is quite possibly the sloppiest kiss they’ve ever shared, since neither of them can stop laughing long enough to do it properly.

“Wow,” Rachel breathes out, several moments later, once they’ve both calmed down a little bit. She’s aware of Brittany and Marley on the other side of the room as she makes herself comfortable on Noah’s lap, her nose brushing the side of his neck as she buries her face there, but she honestly just does not care.

“I know,” Puck kind of chuckles out and his arms wrap a little more tightly around her waist so that one hand falls to cover nearly her entire stomach. (She actually gets goosebumps when she realizes that, in a few months, that won’t be the case anymore.) Her comfort is short-lived, though, because the next thing out of his mouth is, “So, you finally gonna marry me now, or what?”

Rachel jumps and uses her hands on his shoulders to push herself away from him until she’s barely perched on his knees. “What?”

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice holds a hint of confusion, “I mean, shit Rach, I get that you’re not, like, chompin’ at the bit or whatever to do it, and I don’t know if it’s like, some independent woman thing, or-,”

“Noah.”

“- the whole been-there-done-that-crash-n-burn-engagement-Finn thing, or-,”

“Noah.”

“- ‘cause your dads can’t so you’re tryin’ to like, show them solidarity or whatever, or -,”

“Noah!” She’s trying to be patient, really, but that only goes so far. And did he seriously say _finally_? “Just stop talking.” She kind of presses her palms into his cheeks so he can’t move or look away from her. His eyes go wide and he nods a little between her hands, and honestly, sometimes he’s so cute she can barely stand it. (And yes, he would argue that he’s a ‘badass’ and therefore cannot possibly be ‘cute’ until he’s blue in the face, but she stands by her opinion.) “What are you talking about? What do you mean am I _finally_ going to marry you?”

“Well,” he starts, and it’s kind of muffled because her hands are still pressing against his face so he can’t move his mouth quite right. He closes his hands over her wrists and pulls them down gently between them, his thumbs brushing over her pulse in a slow, steady rhythm. “Babe, I’ve wanted lock this down for like, a long-ass time. But it wasn’t what you wanted, so,” he shrugs.

“You never even asked!”

“Well, no.” He’s looking at her like she’s the one who’s not making any sense. “I didn’t wanna pressure you.”

“Press-Noah, why on _earth_ would you think that I don’t want to marry you?” No really? What in the world could he possibly have been thinking? She looks across the room to her friends for some back-up, but the looks on their faces make her feel like everyone in the world knows something that she doesn’t.

“You  know, I mean,” he lifts one hand to rub at the back of his neck and Rachel thinks maybe he’s starting to realize his mistake. “You’re … _you_. And there were no wedding magazines, or totally not-subtle hints. And I really figured when Jake popped the question you’d start, ya know, throwin’ it up in my face or whatever, tryin’ to get me to do the same thing, but … you didn’t.”

He actually looks really sad right now, and it breaks her heart. It also makes her really, really happy, as much as she knows that’s probably a horrible thing to think. She scoots back onto his lap until she can lean up comfortably to kiss him, one hand gripping the shoulder of his dress shirt and the other sliding over the short hair at the back of his neck.  “We’re both really, really stupid, you know that, right?” She tells him with her forehead pressed against his. She thinks he’s starting to get it, because he’s grinning when he nods a little.

“I boughtcha a ring, like, a year and a half ago.”

“Really?” she whispers, and he just nods again before he leans forward to press his lips to hers, making a ridiculous smacking sound when he pulls back.

“Yes,” she tells him, her voice almost giddy but also a little thick with tears that haven’t started flowing just yet. (And she’s really trying very hard to hold them back. She’s only barely even pregnant, if she can’t hold herself together now, what in the world is she going to do a few months down the road when she’s the size of a house and her hormones are raging?) “I mean, i-if you’re asking, I’m saying yes.”

“Fuck yes I’m asking. Shit.” They both laugh and Rachel can hear Brittany and Marley giggling behind her, too. He’s cupping her jaw with one hand, his thumb stroking over her cheek, when he says quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t just bug ya till ya said yes.”

She rolls her eyes, but, really, how cute is he? “I’m sorry I didn’t just bug you until you asked.” The way he looks at her right then makes her really hate that they’re having this conversation with other people in the room.

“Oh! Oh no,” she whines suddenly, because it’s just hit her.

“What?” he asks, and he’s looking at her like she can’t possibly have anything to complain about at that moment. (He’s not wrong, really.)

“I don’t get to get my ring until we get back to the city. I have to wait a whole week,” she pouts.

“Nah, ya don’t,” he smirks. “It’s at Ma’s.” He shrugs when she gapes back at him. “I thought ya might get wedding fever or whatever. Figured it was worth a shot.” His fingers dance over her back as he grins at the look on her face. “I like your way better though. This way I’m gettin’ my very own Berry _and_ a baby. S’awesome.”

They all laugh, then, and Rachel presses her cheek to his to whisper into his ear, “You’ve had your own Berry for a very, very long time.”

“Yeah,” he tells her without moving, his hand still rubbing up and down her back, “but now I get to put my name on ‘er, and that makes it official.” She pulls back just enough to see his face, and he’s watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Playground rules,” he tells her seriously.

“Well, I’m very happy for both of you,” Marley’s voice cuts into their little bubble and Rachel turns her head to rest it on Noah’s shoulder so she can see her friend, “but I should probably get back out there. You know,” she smiles, “since it is my reception and all.”

Rachel sort of giggles and nods, but Puck’s already pushing himself forward and putting his hands on her hips to help her stand off his lap. She’s still steadying herself on her feet when he grabs her hand and tugs her toward the door, smirking and mumbling something about going to ‘ _find little half-bro so I can tell him to suck it, ‘cause he mighta got a wife today, but I got the best fuckin’ fiancé ever **and** a baby.’_

“I’m so sorry,” she tells Marley as she lets his hand slip out of hers and he keeps walking down the hall toward the ballroom, on a mission.

“You know what, I don’t even care.” the bride laughs as the three women walk out a short way behind him. “As long as he rubs it in Jake’s face in private and not to the entire reception over the sound system, I’m good.”

Rachel picks up her pace a little.

**Author's Note:**

> So in case you’re not familiar, this was inspired by an episode of ‘Friends.’ It’s not an exact copy, obviously, and I didn’t want it to be, but I just thought I should throw that out there.


End file.
